Fog of War in Push the Lane (and strategy games, generally)

Today I’d like to spend a little time talking about the game design of Push the Lane, a game that I’m working on (and currently Kickstarting.) If you aren’t up on the basics of what Push the Lane is, check out the Kickstarter page, or this page here on my site.

A really great indie game designer who I follow, Arnold Rauers (designer of Card Thief, ENYO and Card Crawl), asked me recently why there is “fog of war” in Push the Lane. It’s a reasonable question, and one that others also have asked me recently.

Fog of War

For those who don’t know the terminology, “fog of war” in videogames has come to mean “areas of the map or grid on which the player is prevented from seeing some game-state information”. So in StarCraft or League of Legends, most of the map is in fog most of the time. It’s just those areas right around your units that you can see. These units give “vision” within some radius, which reveals updated information about who is within that little circle.

Most videogames do this somewhat haphazardly. In a game like StarCraft, by late game you can have many, many units all over the map, allowing you to see almost all of the map. One of my favorite games, Outwitters, also has this issue, where at the beginning of the game the entire map is a mystery, and near the end almost nothing is. That has always struck me as strange: if the fog of war is important, it’s kind of weird that you can just get rid of it by making enough units and moving them around.

Randomness

I have a more sophisticated way of looking at stuff like fog of war in game design. Basically you can ask the question: at what point does new information reach the player? In games like Summoner Wars or Risk, you have zero time to respond to the sources of randomness – dice rolls. You take an action, then roll the dice to find out how it turned out. If you rolled badly, there’s nothing you can do about that. That “one” you rolled will be in the match, influencing all future game states. This is why many players feel iffy about dice-roll combat in games or other forms of harsh randomness (which I often call “output randomness”).

At the other end of the spectrum, you have games like Chess or Go which have no random elements at all. This means that the player can essentially look ahead as much as they want / are able to, and so they should. And indeed, high level play does involve a lot of looking ahead. Players are forced to make a weird choice like, “should I keep calculating more moves ahead?” Even if you don’t, the feeling that you could have is an oppressive one. Also oppressive is just the sheer amount of information that you’re staring down in a perfect information game. This means you have all kinds of annoying easy and medium-hard calculation that you just have to do – stuff like “just make sure I don’t put a unit in harm’s way” that will probably be familiar to Chess players.

So at both far-ends of the spectrum, you run into problems. So what you want is something in between. You want randomness, but you also want the new random information coming into the game to give players time to respond to it. Imagine in a card game, if you didn’t draw from a face down deck, but there was a face-up market that you drew from that was constantly getting new cards. This is creating a little bit of “distance” between the player’s input and the new random information. You can extend this further by making there be a “upcoming cards” zone, where the game first draws out cards face-up to this zone, where players can see what is coming to the market, but you can not choose these cards.  They’re kind of like a “next box” in Tetris, which also is this kind of randomness. I call this kind of randomness “input randomness”.

The Information Horizon

That thing we are pushing back in that example is the information horizon: the point at which new information comes into the game. (I wrote about this issue more in this article, Uncapped Look-Ahead and the Information Horizon.)

Games like chess do have an information horizon – how much the player is able (and willing) to look-ahead and calculate. The more they’re willing to do that, the more raw information they’re getting about the game. If you do twice as much of that as I do while we’re playing each other, it’s similar to if we’re playing StarCraft and all your units have twice as long of a vision radius! We can see easily in that example how the strategy game of Chess is distinct. If you’re playing StarCraft against a map-hacker, there is still a strategy game going on, but your opponent just has some extraneous resource, a huge well of bonus information that you do not have.

The bigger point about perfect information games like chess are that the information horizon was not chosen carefully by the designer. In practice, they kind of end up working because most people have a similar degree of interest and capability to calculate, but if you take 5 more seconds every turn than I do and we’re at a similar skill level, you’ll probably beat me, just based on that alone.

Choosing the Information Horizon for Push the Lane

In Push the Lane, you have these lanes of gems, each with numbers on them, crashing into each other and reducing the number. The interactions are actually totally deterministic – they simply subtract their values from each other. So a red 5 hits a yellow 3 and you’re left with a red 2, for example.

What is randomized is the rate of gem-spawn (it’s something like every 3-6 turns, using a bag system for uniform spawn rate), and the specific number on the gem (which ranges from -25% to +25% of the tower’s “power” rating, also using a bag system for uniformity).

If you could see the whole board, there would be a lot of basic arithmetic that players would have to do in order to make decisions. Picture one lane, with a yellow 11, a yellow 17, and then a red 5, a red 9, and a red 8. Technically you can sit there and just math out those interactions and how they will go, and so, you should. But that’s pretty oppressive to do to the player.

We could also show the gems, but hide the numbers, as Arnold recently suggested, but… why? For what reason? If you don’t know the numbers, how is it useful to know that there’s a gem there? That information is a lot less useful than you might think, especially because of distance (which we’ll talk about in the next section).

The individual gems are not important. What is important is knowing generally “how pushed the lane is”, which the colored tiles show the player, even through the fog.

Range

Another thing that factors in strongly here is the range of your abilities. Mostly, your abilities will affect units that are adjacent to you, or perhaps two tiles away. You won’t have abilities that affect units halfway across the map, which is another reason you don’t need to know what’s over there right now. By the time you get over there, that gem won’t be in that spot anymore.

We want there to be a mostly deterministic game state, but in terms of the player’s experience, we want information to be slowly feeding in at a rate that he has time to deal with it, but not show the player a huge wealth of information, most of which he can’t do anything about right now anyway.

It’s emotionally oppressive as well as strategically confusing to show the player a bunch of information that he can’t interact with, and that won’t even be the same by the time he can interact with it. Do you want to play a version of this game where you have to sit there and do a bunch of simple math problems to know that if you move over to a certain tile, there should be a red 6 gem next to you by then? It’s increasing the calculation for very little reason.

Using Fog Well

Don’t think about fog in terms of a physical, literal thing. Don’t build your fog around stuff like “field of view”, where objects actually occlude the fog because “if it was a person they wouldn’t be able to see behind the object”. For strategy games, that is valuing the wrong things, and will cause you major problems.

Also, don’t allow the player to pay some in-game resource to increase the amount of information they can see. The information horizon is a very delicate thing; you shouldn’t have StarCraft style “comsats” or a character vision upgrade or towers you can place that increase your vision. Certainly, if hidden information is important for your game, there shouldn’t come some point where all the fog is removed from the map!

Instead, think along the terms of random information entering the game, and what you want the player to know, and when you want them to know it. Two of the things that I am really proud of in the “fog” of Push the Lane are the colored lane tiles through the fog, and the fact that blue (non-lane) tiles aren’t fogged at all. Things don’t move, and aren’t random on those tiles, so they should be known. Otherwise, the player would have to “remember” what was there. Similarly, buildings should be visible through the fog.

Conclusion

I have a lot more to say about fog of war that’s beyond the scope of this article. For further reading, I would recommend checking out this article and this article. Also this article, where I responded to some concerns that Invisible, Inc. designer James Lantz leveled at my theory.

And if you haven’t already, please be sure to check out the Push the Lane Kickstarter, which is currently on day 4. Thanks for reading!

As always, you can support my work on Patreon.com as well. I’d like to give a special thanks to supporter Aaron Oman. Thank you!

Riot is thinking about input/output randomness in League of Legends

For the past five years or so, I’ve been talking about the input/output randomness concepts, and why they’re so important for game design. While I wasn’t the one who coined the terms—that honor goes to the great fellows at the Ludology Podcast—some Googling around shows that no one has talked about the concepts, or developed them, nearly as much as I have.

In short, talking about randomness, especially in these terms, is kind of my thing.

Here’s a quick list of some of the more notable times that I spoke in depth about this subject:

Beyond that, you can (and should) read my books, listen to my podcast and watch the complete 3 Minute Game Design on YouTube.

Between that, and the fact that I recently praised League of Legends and its developer, Riot, for some of the radical things they’ve been doing to their game, you can imagine how pleased I was to see that a Riot designer, Greg Street, made a video talking about input and output randomness in League.

I want to do three things with this article. First, I want to signal to the Riot devs that I would be more than happy to help them out with this project of making the game more input-randomnessy and less output-randomnessy. Let’s chat!

Second, I will talk about the current state of randomness in the game. And finally, I will talk about a few of my recommendations going forward.

The Gist

You should check the links above for more detail, but the very short and rough explanation of input/output randomness is that they are describing the distance between new random information and the user’s ability to react.

Input randomness is stuff like the Tetris “Next” box, or a randomized map—stuff where the user has time to see what the random information is and make decisions based on it. Fog of war is also often used as a mechanism for input randomness: you see stuff usually a turn or two before it can threaten you.

Output randomness is stuff like “roll to hit” in RPGs or games like X-Com. You decide to attack a thing, and then there is random information which comes into the game and determines whether that hit connects or not. In this case, you have zero time to “respond” to the new random information. The course of the game has now been altered by pure randomness, unfiltered by your decision-making.

A quick note is that actually, input and output randomness exist on a spectrum. Randomness which is really close to the user but still technically is input randomness(imagine 1-tile-radius fog of war) may actually be so close as to function similar to output randomness. For more on this, read my article on the Information Horizon.

One more note: as Mr. Street said in the video, output randomness is bad for strategy games. (Actually, he wasn’t that strong with the language, but that is definitely my view.) You also don’t want zero randomness in games. What you want is a carefully placed information horizon.

Randomness in League

There are a number of sources of randomness in League already, but what’s exciting is what they’ve been adding, so let’s talk about that first.

One of the big ones, that they’re talking about in the video, is the new Dragons (or I guess they’re calling them Drakes? I’m going to call them dragons) system. Every game, there is a random elemental dragon. Killing each dragon gives your team a different kind of buff—something like, Air dragons make you move faster, fire dragons make you deal more damage, Earth make you destroy towers faster, and so on. After one of these dragons is killed, a new random one will spawn.

But here’s the cool thing, and when I saw it, I was impressed, because it’s exactly what you should do. The dragon takes awhile to respawn. But on the dragon’s death, the next dragon is selected and a big bright symbol is painted on the dragon’s lair wall for everyone to see. This is a great example of input randomness. Both teams know exactly what random dragon is going to spawn there, and decisions can be made around that.

This system is a really great start. There should be a lot more of this on the League of Legends map (which I guess they call “Summoner’s Rift”? I’m going to call it “the League of Legends map”).

My Suggestions

Category #1: Increasing input randomness. I believe that by making the League of Legends map more dynamic and more different each game, Riot can worry less about perpetually adding content to the system and the sort of “patching just for the sake of keeping things fresh” idea that they arguably do sometimes.

  1. Randomized geometry. Why is the map geometry—the pattern of the walls and everything—the same exact every match? Is this geometry sacred? Remove this brush, put a pillar here, change the shape of this wall. You can definitely design the parameters in such a way that it’s always fair for every character, yet slightly different every game. If you’re really worried about it causing balance problems, maybe have it change randomly at 10 minutes and at 20 minutes, or something.
  2. Randomize all jungle monsters. Having a fixed jungle means having a fixed jungle route. Instead why not have there be a few more jungle monsters, but what they are and where they are is randomized somewhat. That way you can have a more dynamic and less “memorized Starcraft build-order” automatic pathing to the jungling. Make it mirrored, so it’s fair.
  3. Random plants. I love the new “plants” system, and maybe it’s just the beginning. But why not randomize the positions and the types for these plants? Make it mirrored, so it’s fair.
  4. Push the dragons further. Right now the buffs are cool, but maybe instead of just the four elements, it’s four different kinds of monsters as well. So you could have an Earth Wizard who does lots of magic damage, or a Fire Ogre who has shitloads of health. Maybe Ogres, when killed, change the terrain somewhere else or spawn plants somewhere.
  5. Random (mirrored) cannon minions, and more? I like the idea of there being some more variance in the minion-stream itself. What if randomly, every 5-7 waves or so, a super minion spawned on one of each team’s lanes (probably, it can’t be the same lane). There could be a little map alert telling both teams about this. I spent like two minutes thinking of this idea, I don’t know—but the point is, I do think there’s a lot more that could be done with minions than is being done here.

Category #2: Removals of existing output randomness. These aren’t quite as important in my view, and they’re also less likely to be taken up by Riot for a number of reasons. But ideally, I’d love these to be changed.

  1. Remove Random Critical Hits. This is totally unnecessary for this game. It’s totally a vestigial D&D thing and all it does is unnecessarily loosen up a system which already is very loose. I’m actually surprised that high level players don’t complain about this, because a lucky crit at the wrong time can completely change the course of a match.
  2. Reduce execution across the board. This one is hard, and I don’t expect Riot to act on it for that reason. But, in an ideal world, we should be making the game be less about crazy reaction speed in team fights, and more about strategy. Removing skillshots and having them be target-based is one suggestion here. Getting rid of “burst” (massive amounts of damage in a tiny window of time) as a concept would be a much wider scope change that would really benefit the game. That would mean questioning the roles of burst-mages and assassins, which is a huge job, but personally I think it would be worth it. Because, as I’ve written about before, execution is a form of randomness, and this becomes more and more the case the faster players are asked to execute.

(On a slightly related topic, here are some more League patch notes that I’d love to see.)

Anyway, those ideas are mostly off-the-cuff (but not getting rid of random crits. That seriously needs to go), but the point is just to demonstrate some ways that Riot’s designers—and designers in general—can use the input/output randomness theory in practice to create a better experience. Using input randomness in this way, you can get the “variety” that is so sought after using extremely costly (both in terms of production costs and accessibility costs) asymmetry content, while also providing players with a fair, balanced competitive experience.

I’m really glad to see someone as high profile using these terms. If you know of anyone else talking about randomness in this way, please let me know in the comments!

 

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CGD Podcast Episode 23 – “On Games At the Games”, A Conversation with Frank Lantz

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This week I had a great conversation with NYU Game Center director Frank Lantz about randomness and general game design philosophy. We meant to get to three other topics – execution, reading and improvisation, but not all-that-surprisingly, we never got there in the 70+ minutes of this episode.

Mentioned in this episode:

Frank’s “Against Design” article

David Deutsch’s The Beginning of Infinity

Nassim Taleb’s The Black Swan

Nick Bostrom’s Superintelligence

 

Let me know what you thought of the conversation in the comments below (if you’re lucky, Frank may even be hovering nearby to respond!)

If you enjoyed the show, please consider supporting the show by becoming a patron at Patreon.com!

CGD Podcast Episode 22: Mind Games and Reading the Opponent

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What does it mean for a game to involve a lot of “mind games”? Can you really make “reads” off of an opponent and predict what he’s going to do? What’s the difference between “reading the opponent” and “a lucky guess”? This episode explores these questions, discussing games like Poker, Street Fighter, Rock Paper Scissors, Yomi and more.

Support the show on Patreon by clicking HERE!

CGD Podcast Episode 15: “Tharsis” Article and Redefining Elegance

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In this episode, I first discuss a new article on Gamasutra that discusses Zach Gage’s new highly random (and proud of it!) game, Tharsis. For more on my positions on randomness, I would check out this article or this video.

In the second half, I talk about a new, more specific definition for “elegance” as applied to game design. Relevant is this episode of 3 Minute Game Design, where I talk about the “old definition”. Let me know what you think of my new thoughts on the topic.

As always, you can support the show by visiting http://www.patreon.com/keithburgun. Thanks for listening!

Videogames Are Broken Toys

Emmet_at_home_2_LEGO_movie

“Whoops, I have the antidote for the Kragle, how did that happen?”

– Lord Business

At best, my design theory work tends to get mixed reviews. It’s my belief that if any creative work fails to connect with people, it’s the fault of the communicator. As a writer, you’re setting out to connect with people, so if you fail to do that – regardless of your reasons/explanations – it’s your fault. For the past few years, one of the most significant factors in this disconnect I’ve experienced has – to some extent, at least consciously – eluded me.

I’ve always known that many videogames are primarily toys (obvious examples being Minecraft or Grand Theft Auto), but what I failed to realize is that nearly every videogame ever made is essentially functioning at the “toy level” (which I’ll explain in a moment). I failed to realize that even supposed “strategy games” like Starcraft, Civilization, X-Com or Street Fighter are all primarily toys, despite the fact that they have many markedly game-like features and even market themselves as strategy games.

This caused me to raise concerns that failed to connect with people, because I was looking at them as games, whereas everyone else was looking at them as something much more like toys.

In addition, my criticism was actually backwards. I was complaining about the elements that damaged the game, when I should have been complaining about the elements that damaged the toy.

(In case you’re confused, here’s a quick primer on my four prescriptive interactive forms (read more here): the base interactive system with no goals is a “toy“. Add an objective/solution and you get a puzzle. Add measurement and you get a contest. Obfuscate game information (allowing for decisions to exist), and you get a game (a contest of decision-making).)

 

The Arguments

A huge point of contention has been my position on traditional videogame-style asymmetry. In 2013 I wrote an article called Debunking Asymmetry, which explained the problems I have with asymmetrical forces in games (i.e. selectable races, characters, classes, etc).

The article got a lot of attention from some well-known designers like Jon Schafer, Greg Costikyan, Raph Koster, and David Sirlin (who wrote a dismissive and mean-spirited comment which got upvoted like crazy, despite the fact that it didn’t really address my article’s points).

Overall, though, the consensus seemed to be more or less something along the lines of “you can’t say anything is good or bad”, something that I hear all the time and always found really irritating, and attributed to people being perhaps “anti-progress”. This comment from Shay Peirce somewhat embodies the sentiment as well. Here are a couple of excerpts from his comment:

“There’s no such thing as “correct” or “ideal” game design; there’s just rules of thumb, which may or may not apply to solving the problems of the specific game you’re designing, i.e. the specific experience you’re trying to give people.”

“Finally I’d like to say that your dismissal of the value of self-expression through gameplay style is, to me, breathtaking in its audacity and obtuseness.”

When I read these comments, I was really kind of confused. One of my concerns I raised in the article was what I called “playing designer”. Since the objective in, say, Street Fighter, is to win the fight, then I should choose the best character (or at least, the character I am best with) every single time. In either case, the actual “choice” of who to pick is therefore non-existent/solved.

Only if you decide to sort of step back and ask, “well, would it maybe be more fun for me to choose a character other than the best / that I am best with?” do any of the other choices become viable. In that situation, you are making a design choice – what are optimal rules for this coming match in terms of my experience, which is markedly different from strategic choice in a game, which is always about finding more optimal moves.

I brought this up, but it didn’t connect. Why not? Well, because everyone else was already assuming that of course we all make design choices. We make design choices all of the time in videogames – we’ve grown up making design choices. Early popular videogames like Super Mario Bros., The Legend of Zelda and Final Fantasy all trained us to constantly make design choices – to make sub-optimal strategic choices for the sake of keeping ourselves entertained. We’re used to making sub-par moves for the sake of “fun”. Sometimes we refer to this as “going for style points”.

Using four fighters in FF1 is incredibly strong, and incredibly boring.

Using four fighters in FF1 is both incredibly strong, and incredibly boring.

 

Further, we even have a derisive term for people who actually try to play optimally: “min-maxing“. Min-maxing refers to the act of picking the best stuff, especially in a role-playing game such as Dungeons & Dragons. D&D is inherently a role-playing toy, so if you’re “playing to win”, you’re playing wrong.

 

The “Toy Level”

Most game players and game designers are not thinking about “games” – even “strategy games” – the way I do. They are thinking about them fundamentally as toys, and since toys are so loose and formless, it’s much harder to make clear statements about what works or doesn’t work. I only know of one sure-fire way to fundamentally break toys, which I will get into in a moment.

Another example is randomness, and my positions on that. If you are thinking of something as a strategy game, hard output randomness isn’t desirable. But in a toy? Sure, why not! Well-known designer and theorist DanC once told me that I was (paraphrasing here) “obsessed with attributing value to tools”. His point was that randomness is a tool, asymmetry is a tool; everything is a tool and, echoing Shay Pierce’s sentiment, you might want any of these things in your system.

If you are operating on “the toy level” – which basically every designer on earth with the possible exception of some Eurogame / abstract designers – this is true.

 

The Problem

eheheI really enjoyed The Lego Movie. The theme, or controlling idea of the movie was pretty powerful: that the spirit of Legos was creativity, exploration, doing things your own way. The primary force of antagonism in the film was essentially instructions, or the super-glue that holds Lego bricks in place once set. In the first act, the main character lives his life by a strict set of rules, and throughout the story he learns to embrace his creativity. Wild, loose creativity is, after all, at the core of the spirit of legos, and of toys in general.

As I said earlier, I only know one sure-fire way to break a toy. Toys are very low on the ladder of forms, very simple, and thus, very durable. Just about anything you can imagine can work in a toy, except for one thing.

Toys break when you give them a goal.

When you give a toy a goal, it technically becomes some other form – a puzzle, a contest, or a game. The problem is that the loose, scattered bits of rules everywhere that could have made for a good toy is not strong enough to support any of those other higher forms, all of which require way more systemic support to operate properly.

Things end up hobbling along and working, but only because of the efforts of the player to ignore your goal entirely (and simply play with it like a toy), or worse, partially ignore the goal, which requires a lot of mental effort.

This might be OK for the opening introduction to your toy – i.e. the instructions that come with legos – but you should quickly abandon any sense of a real goal as soon as possible.

Some systems are very obviously toys with some goals slapped onto them. Probably the most obvious examples of this would be things like Grand Theft Auto and The Legend of Zelda. In these systems, we have a great big open world with all kinds of stuff to explore and things to do, which is then flattened out into a linear, rote chore by the missions and fetch quests. In GTA, I can go off huge ramps and drive around on rooftops and explode and jump out and parachute into the water – all kinds of fun “play” activities. Nothing takes the fun out of those like a big yellow arrow telling you exactly what to do.

RPGs, too, also have this quality. I always remember being frustrated, even as a kid, that so many weird, interesting, almost tactical spells that technically existed in Final Fantasy took a direct back-seat to something like FIR2, which just nukes them with damage. I mean, the point of Final Fantasy is to get to the end, right? To “beat the game”? We certainly don’t want to die and be “set back” further from the goal, so we should just use the damn fire spell, not muck around with other stuff that might be more interesting.

At the other end of the spectrum, though, you have supposed “strategy games” like Civilization. But now I have to do a weird mental gymnastics routine where I am trying to win, but I’m not trying to win too hard. In Civilization, I should probably look up which of the six victory conditions is the most consistently easy to win and with which nationality, and then just pick that nationality every single time and do nothing else, ever.

It’s funny – that sounds like such an alien concept, doesn’t it? I’ve played thousands of hours of various Civilization games and I did nothing of the sort. I always wanted to “try out” all the different factions and “go for” all the different victory conditions to see. What I was doing was not “trying to win”. I was “exploring the edges”, as one does with a ball or with Legos.

Even with highly competitive games like League of Legends, the reason they have so many characters and so many items is so that you can constantly “explore edges”. It only hurts a strategy game to have that much content, in that actual balance goes way out the window. Someday, when Riot stops issuing weekly balance patches (which makes solution a moving target), the community will quickly settle on the top few team builds, and soon after that, the game will die off, with some other “less-explored toy” taking its place.

 

Takeaways

When I say that videogames are broken toys, of course they aren’t so broken that they can’t be enjoyed (at least, not the popular/successful ones). Players inherently do a lot of the lifting themselves with toys, so going the extra mile or two to ignore / partially ignore goals isn’t that hard to do, and basically everyone is doing it right now and will continue doing it for some time. That doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t improve the situation, though.

I think it behooves us all – myself in particular – to understand that everyone else is thinking about things on the toy level, even for highly competitive games. So much of my criticism has kind of been invalid. When I complained about CCGs, or too many characters in Street Fighter, I was wrong. What I should have said was, “these things shouldn’t have goals.”

We also need to get over our anti-toy bias. Players, particularly adults, are a bit ashamed of playing with toys, and I think that needs to change. There’s nothing wrong with playing with toys.

Some might be wondering “how would you do something like Magic: The Gathering without a goal?” There’s a lot of answers to that. I believe there’s a variant of Magic: The Gathering that automates the actual “match” aspect. This might be a start; basically it’s a “deck-building toy” – you build a deck, and instantly get a number or some other feedback that allows you to explore the edges of “all Magic cards”.

The immediate response to that idea is likely, “well, that wouldn’t be fun for very long”. I agree – the problem is that Magic isn’t really that great a toy. The designers themselves weren’t entirely thinking of it as one; if they had, it’d probably have way more edges to explore. Forget completely about balance or depth or dominant strategies or any of the things that one worries about when building a strategy game.

Because toys are a primitive and simple form, it’s not hard to create a functional toy. However, creating a great toy – such as Legos – is pretty hard. Like anything else, you need some “core idea” that ties the entire thing together. Toys can – and should – be elegant, just like any other human creation.

The modern player has been raised in a world of toys. Pure strategy games, like some designer boardgames and my own Auro, can come off to today’s player as unforgiving, difficult, strange or even “feeling like work”. In time, when we have more examples of pure games, I expect this problem to diminish, but for now, I think it’s an issue.

The next thing I make with my development team, Dinofarm Games may end up being a pure, unconflicted toy. Toys are the most common language people speak these days, and part of being a good communicator is speaking to people in a language that they understand.

If we want to make toys, we need to really focus on that. Or alternatively, focus on the other forms. Portal and Professor Layton do a great job of focusing on being puzzles. Guitar Hero and Dance Dance Revolution are great, focused contests. My favorite form by far are games, so I would love it if we could start producing some unconflicted, pure strategy games as well. Outwitters is probably the closest thing to a pure, unconflicted digital game, but even it has asymmetrical forces.

I hope that in the future, developers take the point of The Lego Movie to heart. Stop spraying glue all over your toys.

 

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